


Secrets

by luridCavum



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alcohol, Confessions, F/F, Sleepovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-19
Updated: 2014-09-19
Packaged: 2018-02-18 00:37:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2328821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luridCavum/pseuds/luridCavum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pacifica Northwest has a secret.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Secrets

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for alcohol use/mentions of alcohol abuse (partying)

Pacifica Northwest has a secret. Alright, she has a ton of secrets, but in Gravity Falls it's hard not to. Right now, though, her secret is this: she's not going to a party on her daddy's newest yacht. Of course not, she's already been a dozen times. Not that her friends need to know. No, tonight, her secret is that she's going to a sleepover, hosted by none other than Mabel Pines.

She'd be lying if she said she didn't know how it happened. Mabel snuck her number into Pacifica's phone the night after the mini-golf game, (which Pacifica agreed to never talk about to anyone ever, who'd believe her anyway?) and maybe they'd texted a little.

Maybe they had texted a lot. Maybe Pacifica woke up with a dozen messages of nothing but emojis in her inbox every morning, all from the same stupidly optimistic girl. Maybe she smiled every time she saw them. But it's not like she'd tell anyone that, no, she had a reputation to uphold. Pacifica Northwest, social elitist and Totally Fucking Loaded, to boot. She got everything she wanted and nothing less. Well, almost nothing.

Anyway, tonight her secret involves her biking over to the Mystery Shack, her purse stuffed with a change of clothes and a bottle of Absolut. God, this place has so many bugs. Pacifica can nearly hear the mold growing. She rings the doorbell anyway.

Mabel's face is already covered in stickers. Seriously, where does the girl get so many stickers? And more importantly, why?

"Paz!" Mabel grins, ushering her inside.

There are a lot of things Pacifica notices when she walks in. First, there's a pig on the kitchen table. Not a roasted pig, which is good, Pacifica's never been a fan, but a real, waddling, oinking, pink pig. Second, there's an old man snoring in front of the TV. It's an old box TV, Pacifica notices. She didn't even think they made those any more.

"Aw, he fell asleep again! Way to go, Grunkle Stan." Mabel points to the sleeping man.

"Right." Pacifica studies her nails. Everyone in town knew Stan, washed-up old man with the rip-off old shack. Didn't she throw tomatoes at him at some point? She can hardly remember. The stairs creak on the way up tot he attic. Eugh, more mold. Pacifica wants to crawl out of her skin.

There's a sign on the attic door, "No boys allowed! (This means you, Dipper!)". There are two beds, smaller than any Pacifica's ever slept in. A string of colorful lights hangs above the bed with the purple sheets. How cute.

"Sorry Paz," Mabel says, kicking the door closed when it sticks. "Candy and Grenda couldn't make it, there was a... suspicious candy corn accident." Mabel darts her eyes around, as if 'candy corn' was some sort of swear she didn't want Stan to hear her use. Weirdo.

"Whatever," Paz rolls her eyes, checking her nails again even though she know's they're perfect.

"But we do still have fun things for the evening!" Mabel insists, rooting around under her bed. Pacifica watches the way the lights twinkle on Mabel's skirt, highlighting the curve of her--

No, Pacifica, chill.

She looks at Dipper's side of the room: dirty socks and half-read books galore. Eugh, boys.

"Ta-da!" Mabel pulls out a faded pink box. Pacifica can hardly read the outside. "Karaoke, dumb-dumb!" Oh, God. "I can show you how us normal people do it!"  
"Mabel, I don't think anything about you qualifies as normal."

Mabel bops her on the nose.

"Bap! You've got to put a quarter in the jar!"

Pacifica stares.

"Uh, what?"

"The jar!" Mabel repeats, pointing to the windowsill, where a glass jar labeled "Douchebag Jar, 25 cents" is half-filled with quarters already. Did Pacifica even own any quarters? She doubted it.

"Mabel, I don't--"

"Bap!" Another nose bap. "You're at my house, you've gotta follow my rules!" Fine, sure, whatever. Paz digs through her wallet: a twenty oughta cover it for the night. It's also the smallest bill she has.

Her wallet clinks against the vodka when she puts it back in her purse. Pacifica turns back to Mabel.

"We could do things your way," Pacifica starts, feeling herself grin slyly. "or we could do things my way." She pulls out the bottle. Mabel's eyes go wide.

"Or both!" Mabel chuckles.

 

Pacifica's had a few to drink but she can still sing, louder and louder, the more she has. And Mabel, well, Mabel can't really sing at all, but she's got the enthusiasm,   
Paz will give her that.

Paz isn't exactly sure how it happened, but after a couple more drinks on her part, and a good few mouthfuls from Mabel, they're shouting karaoke at the top of their lungs, taking a drink or two after each song.

For the first time, Pacifica's not embarrassed to know all the words.

Paz is cross-legged on the floor. Mabel is standing and dancing sloppily beside her, her cheeks flush, and heat rolling off her.

A few more rounds of karaoke, a few more drinks, and Mabel's strewing herself across Paz' lap, belly first. The karaoke machine crackles out another song, but both girls have dropped their microphones. Not that they needed them anyway.

"Uh, Mabel, don't start drooling on me, this costs more than you're worth." It's a lie, she doesn't care about the skirt she's wearing except how warm Mabel is on top of it.

"Aw, c'mon, Paz." Mabel's giggling. "Paaazz." She draws the name out on her tongue. "My mouth feels funny."

"What, you've never been drunk before?" Pacifica's friends-- her other friends-- have all at least had a few. Lord knows how many toilet bowls Pacifica's seen on weekends while her parents are away.

"Nope." Mabel grins, cheeks pink and bubbly. So she's a giggly drunk. Pacifica's known quite a few of those.

But this is different. Paz doesn't know how, but this is different. Maybe because Mabel is so warm (so so warm, god, did people even come this warm?) on top of her, maybe because the only music that's playing is the static karaoke machine that Mabel probably picked up from a garage sale. Maybe it's the way the moonlight is spilling in through the open window, or the way Mabel is still (so warm) making herself comfortable on Pacifica's lap and smiling up at her loosely.

Whatever it is, it's different, and Pacifica feels different. So it doesn't come as much of a surprise to her when she opens her mouth and words start to pour out.

"Mabel, Mabes, babe," Pacifica puts a hand on Mabel's hair and she's almost surprised the girl doesn't start purring. "You're so. You're so young, and you're so stupid, and why do you have so much glitter everywhere? I'm going to have glitter in my hair for a week, you know. And it's really adorable, oh shit did I say that I didn't mean to say that but Babel-- no, wait, Mabel. Mayy-bell." Pacifica takes a deep breath, Mabel's shifting in her lap, "You know, Mabes, I have a secret." Mabel perks up, moving (god, no, don't move, stay, closer closer closer) to sit up, but she keeps a hand on Pacifica's legs (thigh oh god she's so close to-- no Paz, got to focus oh god she's so warm).

"A secret?" Mabel's got wide brown eyes and a grin that's sprouting across her face, "I love secrets!"

"It's a big secret." Pacifica sobers up as much as she can manage. "You can't tell anyone." She doesn't want Mabel to move her hand away, ever. Mabel's squinting at her, trying to read whatever her secret is in her blue eyeshadow and lipgloss.

Pacifica takes a deep breath. There's a well of words in her throat, warm and burning (or maybe that's the alcohol, who knows.) If Mabel looks at her with those round, round brown eyes for a second longer, Pacifica-- well, she doesn't know what she'll do.

"My parents," Pacifica forces out instead. She leans back, her back resting on the edge of Mabel's bed. "As'syou know, I took ballet for many years, I had a personal trainer and everything. Every little girl's dream. My dream..." Pacifica inhales slowly, just enough that she can nearly remember the sweet scent of the woman's perfume, the gentle curve of her waist that captured every drop of young Pacifica's attention. "She was gorgeous, like me, but. Not like me.  
"I'd never wanted to be anyone else, of course. I'm perfect, why would I?" Pacifica's smile disappears quick. "But she-- she..." Pacifica feels a heavy lump in her throat that she hasn't felt in years.

"Hey, Paz." Mabel's hand doesn't move, only squeezes part of Pacifica's thigh. "Paz. Baby." Paz's heart squeezes along with it. Mabel's other hand goes to Pacifica's shoulder, so Mabel's sitting right in front of her now, moonlight shining on half her face. Oh, god, does Pacifica want. Mabel's looking at her again. Her cheeks are flush and red and her eyes are shining with alcohol and, and, and.

And Pacifica takes.

She takes both her hands to Mabel's warm cheeks and kisses her, hard. And Mabel kisses her, one hand squeezing her inner thigh and one hand tangling in Pacifica's hair. Mabes tastes like alcohol and warm. Their lips move together, Mabel's chapped and Pacifica's sticky with lipgloss. They take their time. Mabel's tongue teases past Paz's lips, nervous, and Paz reaches down to pull her closer-- shit, no, they're falling.

And then Pacifica's lying on top of Mabel, who's warm pink sweater is hiked up past her stomach. Her skin is soft against the smooth material of Paz's shirt, warmth   
still pooling off her but slowly creeping lower. Paz doesn't kiss her again like she wants to (like she so, so wants to). So she settles for tickling Mabel, getting her cool hands all over Mabel's skin, making her jump and wriggle underneath Pacifica's body weight.

"Pazzy," Mabel gasps through her giggles. "Pazzy, Pazzy, Paz." Pacifica stops tickling, still leaning onto Mabel. She wants to be closer. "I have a secret, too."

"Hm?" Pacifica's heart goes to her throat. She seizes up, expecting a word she's never heard before. "What is it?"

Mabel kisses her.

Oh, God, yes.

Maybe it's the alcohol creeping it's warm breath into her system, or the fact no one's touched her this gentle since ever, but Pacifica would've believed she was flying if she wasn't weighing down heavily on top of Mabel.

Mabel.

Pacifica gives her one last, hearty kiss before stopping. Mabel's eyes are shut and her mouth is just barely open, leaning closer as Paz pulls back. Paz's stomach squeezes.

"Mabel."

Mabel looks up at her like she's just waking up. For the first time in her life, Pacifica Northwest is at a loss for words.

"We should-- I mean, do you want to-- I-- I want to..."

Mabel just kisses her again.

"Of course, stupid!" Mabel kisses her on the nose. “Bap!”


End file.
